


Dragonborn

by magenta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, wizard!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magenta/pseuds/magenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has spent his whole life running away, from his family, from angry mobs, from everything but Cenweard. Then he meets the strange man in the woods, and wonders if maybe he's been running towards something all this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonborn

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to janegravity for the beta and support! Couldn't do it without you!
> 
> And thanks to caz2y5 for creating such inspiring art, I had a great time writing this!  
> http://caz2y5.livejournal.com/57582.html
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qx6aHMPVvyQ&feature=g-upl
> 
> Also, if you like this story, come bid on me in the AO3 Fic Auction and I'll write something for you! http://ao3auction.tumblr.com/magenta

Dean ran through the forest, his legs pumping and his heart racing. He could hear them behind him, dozens, or maybe hundreds of feet pounding the floor of the forest, their voices like a roar. He couldn’t see them anymore, but he remembered all too well the looks on their faces, terror when they’d realized what he was, and then rage as they charged him, thinking they were protecting their village. Dean spared a glance over his head, seeing a familiar dark shape soaring over his head and over the canopy of the trees and he felt his heart skip, knowing that the townsfolk weren’t coming for him, not really. His blood sang through his veins, hot with the fire of his dragon’s breath and he ran, focusing on little else besides the ground beneath his feet and the comforting darkness of his dragon above him.

***

__

_He couldn’t remember the day he was born, but the story had been told to him enough times that the images were bright and clear in his head. The first son, wanted and loved even before he took his first breath, the excitement on his father’s face melted into something like disappointment, or maybe something worse. There was no ignoring the red splash of a birthmark that wrapped around Dean’s tiny body, spreading across his chest and even onto his neck, bright tendrils like his infant skin had been licked by flame. There was pity in the midwife’s face as she bundled Dean up and passed him quickly to his exhausted and weeping mother, turning to wash her hands until they were chapped and red as though Dean’s dragon blood was contagious, something she could catch. Dean didn’t remember that day, but he remembered the long years that followed, the looks that he was given, the way parents tugged their children away from him when he walked past, the way their whispers hurt and confused him._

_More than anything, he remembered the day he turned 16 and his birthmark flared to life, brighter than it had ever been, like he was burning from the inside. His mother thrust a sack at him, filled with some food and clothes, and a few coins clanging in the bottom, tears filling her eyes as she told him goodbye and pointed him towards the woods. Dean walked for days, confused and burning up, his feet carrying him forward as if they knew the path his mind didn’t. His skin grew hotter and hotter until he thought for sure he was dying, his vision blurry and his mouth dry when he finally stumbled into a clearing and felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Sitting in the middle of the clearing was a circle of stones, and resting in the middle was a large egg, grey and mottled like the stones around it. Dean dropped his bag and hurried towards it, resting his palms against the surface, the heat from his body flowing into it until he could swear he felt movement inside, like something was waking up. Dean’s mind cleared and his heart slowed, and he lifted the egg, cradling it gently in his palms. **Cenweard**. The name filled his head, like a shout and a whisper all at once, and Dean finally felt at home._

***

When he’d been running for hours, and couldn’t remember the last time he heard the shouts of footsteps of the villagers behind him, Dean stopped, hunching over and dragging in deep gulps of air. As his heart slowed, he looked around, resting his back against a tree. He was in a very densely forested area, trees so tightly packed it was nearly as dark as night. While that would be perfect for hiding, Dean’s skin was starting to itch, and he could feel the heat spreading underneath and he forced himself to keep going. His legs ached now that the rush of the chase was over, but he walked on until he found a wide open space surrounded by dense trees and brush, the faint sound of water trickling nearby. It was perfect, and he tilted his head up to the sky and shouted.

The words that came from his mouth were ancient, older than anything living today, and they flowed from him like water, easy and natural. He remembered the first time he spoke the words, the morning fifteen years ago he woke up to the sound of the egg he’d found cracking open, and hours later, finally locking eyes with what was inside. His heart had swelled with pride and with the language of the dragons, and he still felt that same kind of wonder as he looked to the sky now, and saw Cenweard circling above him, swooping down to rest in the clearing.

Dean ran to him, dropping his bag on the ground and pressing his face against the smooth, deep blue scales of Cenweard’s neck. He felt the heat in his blood begin to subside, and let the loud, steady thumping of Cenweard’s heart calm him and ground him. They stood like that for some time until Dean’s stomach growled loudly enough for both of them to hear, Cenweard nudging Dean back with his head, pushing him towards his discarded bag.

 _You need to eat. I hope you at least got some food for your trouble._ Of everything that came along with having a dragon to call, hearing Cenweard’s voice inside his head had probably been the hardest for Dean to get used to, but by now it was familiar and comfortable.

Dean snorted a laugh and opened up the bag, gesturing for Cenweard to come look. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting food. Here, I even got something for you.” He tossed a large, paper-wrapped bundle, and was rewarded with a delighted snuffle as the dragon ripped through the paper and bent to bite off half of the leg of lamb inside. “I’d love to get you something...fresher, but they always notice when I steal their cows.” Dean shrugged, biting into one of the meat pies he’d managed to snag for himself. He groaned a little and let his eyes fall closed, and decided that this was worth being run out of yet another town by an angry mob.

 _I’m sorry I overreacted, I just felt your panic and thought you needed help._ Cenweard hooked the other half of the lamb with his talons, and swallowed it whole.

Dean scoffed and wanted to argue that he hadn’t panicked, but that was pointless. They were more connected than should have been possible, and he guessed he kind of did panic. That tends to happen when you get caught stealing in a town that thinks the punishment for that involves the largest knife Dean had ever seen being applied to his body in a way he never wanted to find out.

“It’s alright, we’d have had to move on soon anyways, people in the taverns were starting to wise up. No one would gamble with me anymore, and I have a limited skill set.” Gambling and stealing were pretty much it, though he could definitely hold his own in a fight when he had to, and he had to pretty often. Getting caught stealing or scamming a man out of a few coins in the tavern is one kind of fight, having your dragon roar and swoop in to rescue you like Cenweard had today? That’s a whole other kind of fight, the kind with torches and pitchforks, and Dean didn’t even want to try to win that kind of fight.

They finished eating in companionable silence, sharing a few apples between them. The sun was nearly down, and Dean gathered up an armful of twigs, building a little pile near the edge of the clearing. It was starting to get cold and he was suddenly exhausted, and he was eternally grateful for the fire Cenweard started with just a little of his breath. Dean curled up on the ground, using his bag as a pillow and spreading his coat out over himself. Beds were what he missed the most, living on the run, but he always slept well with Cenweard and the steady beating of his heart nearby.

***

Some hours later, Dean woke with a start. He could hear someone nearby, a rustling in the woods, and more than that, he could feel Cenweard’s heart beating faster, the dragon alert but completely still behind him.

_Dean, there’s someone here._

“I know,” Dean whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself. “Just stay still, I’m going to go look.” He reached quietly into his bag and pulled out his dagger, and got to his feet, creeping into the trees. There was just a hint of sun peeking through the trees, barely enough to see by, but enough for Dean to know that it was nearly dawn. He heard more footsteps, and what sounded like a stumble followed by a soft curse. Dean smirked a little; whoever it was, they weren’t used to travelling through the woods in the dark.

Dean saw him then, a figure silhouetted by the early morning light. The man was hunched over, as if in pain, and he looked around somewhat frantically, obviously lost. Dean relaxed, and loosened his grip on his dagger. This man clearly wasn’t a threat, and Dean turned to make his way back to Cenweard but had barely taken two steps before he stopped in his tracks.

_Help him._

Dean rolled his eyes, and kept walking.

_Dean. Help him. How many times have you been lost and alone in the woods? Wouldn’t you have liked some help?_

Sure, Dean had been lost in the woods before, but he hadn’t been alone in a long time. He’d always had Cenweard, and that was enough. It had always been enough.

_At least ask him if he wants your help. I swear I will torch your best coat if you don’t._

The threat was empty, Dean was pretty sure, but it was still enough to stop him. Fine. He’d ask the man if he needed help, and then go back and catch some more sleep before they had to be on the move.

Dean moved back towards the man, being a little less quiet this time, trying not to startle him. It didn’t work, and when Dean stepped into the small clearing where the man was resting, he jumped and shouted, wincing when he moved.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you, I just..do you need help? You look lost.” Dean reached a hand out to help the man up, reaching his other hand behind him to tuck his dagger into his belt.

“I…yes. I am lost.” He reluctantly reached out and took Dean’s hand, and Dean pulled him to his feet.

“Are you alright? You look a little worse for wear.” Dean looked the man over quickly, taking in the deep circles under his eyes, the dark bruise on his cheek, and the awkward way he was holding himself, his clothes muddy and maybe even a little bloody. The light was just bright enough for Dean to make out the haunted look on the man’s face, and something in Dean’s chest clenched a little.

The man nodded carefully, wiping his palms on his filthy overcoat. “I’m fine. I will be fine.”

Dean paused, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. “Look, I’ve got some food back where I slept. Come have some breakfast and we can go from there, alright?” He smiled, sticking his hand out. “I’m Dean.”

The man hesitated, but finally took Dean’s hand and shook it. “I’m Castiel. There are probably a few things you should know about me before you offer your help.”

Dean waved his hand. “There’s at least one thing you need to know about me too, but let’s get you some food first, yeah? I’m not far from here, c’mon.”

They moved through the trees quietly, and Dean kept one eye on Castiel the whole way. He was limping a little, and holding one of his arms in the other, a posture Dean was more than familiar with. Castiel has received a heck of a beating, and Dean was surprised by how much he wanted to find the person who’d done it and give them a taste of their own medicine.

As they reached the clearing where Dean had slept, he stopped, turning to Castiel. “Remember that thing I said you needed to know about me? Now’s as good a time as any…” Dean stepped through the last barrier of trees and guided Castiel through, keeping a slightly tighter than necessary grip on his forearm just in case he decided to bolt.

Castiel’s eyes went wide when he saw Cenweard, sitting up on his haunches at the other edge of the clearing, using his claws to stir the ashes of the fire he’d started the night before. Dean waited for the terror to come, for the shouting, braced himself for it, but it never came. Instead, Castiel started laughing, an odd sound, like it was one he didn’t make often, but a joyous one nonetheless. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and Dean noticed how bright blue they were. He walked across the clearly as quickly as he could, and reached a hand out before turning back to Dean. “Can I…does he mind if I touch him?”

“Cenweard, this is Castiel. You mind?” Dean was almost grinning; Castiel was like a boy, excitement lighting up his eyes when Cenweard nodded his head and dipped it, giving Castiel permission to run shaking fingers over his smooth scales.

“Dean, he’s amazing. I’ve never seen one so close before, only heard stories. How long?”

“Fifteen years. He called me to him somewhere in these woods, and we’ve been together ever since.” Dean walked over to join them, rubbing his fingers over the spot just behind Cenweard’s wing that made him rumble so loud the ground vibrated beneath their feet. “He’s the only family I’ve got.” Cenweard pressed affectionately against Dean’s hand, agreeing wordlessly. He bent his front legs under himself and curled up in a spot of sun, his scales glinting as he dozed.

Castiel looked down at the ground then, pulling his hand away from Cenweard’s neck to brush over the bruise on his cheek. “I understand.”

Dean gave Castiel a long, hard look, and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, let’s eat, okay?” Castiel nodded and lowered himself carefully to the ground, gratefully accepting the heel of bread and hunk of cheese Dean passed him. He ate slowly, like he had to remember how to do it before each bite, but he got it all down, and Dean pushed his waterskin over, looking down at the bread in his hands instead of watching the way Castiel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“So, Castiel. You want to tell me what happened?” Dean pulled the last two apples out of his bag, and handed one to Castiel, taking a big bite out of his own.

“Not especially, but you’ve shared with me, so I should return the favour.” Castiel paused to take a bite of his apple, his tongue darting out to catch an errant drop of juice. “My family, they found out something about me that I thought I was hiding better than I was. Obviously. They were…displeased, and sent me away. I have no idea how many days ago that was.”

“Are they the ones that…hurt you?”

Castiel nodded, and brushed his finger over his bruised cheek again. “I have many brothers and sisters, and they have very particular ideas of what is right. I no longer fit that idea, apparently. I left home many years ago when I first realized I was…different, but I thought I had it under control and I went back. It was a mistake.”

Dean chewed quietly for a few moments, and then pulled aside the neck of his shirt, the bright birthmark obvious even against his tanned skin. “My family pretty much disowned me the day I was born and they saw this, but they didn’t kick me out till I turned 16 and Cenweard called me. I’ve never tried to go back.”

Another nod, and Castiel tossed his finished apple into the woods, wiping his sticky fingers on his coat. “It can be easier to be alone.”

There was no real response to that, so Dean didn’t try to come up with one. Of course he missed his family, his little brother Sam especially, but he couldn’t imagine giving up Cenweard for anything, not even his family.

“So, you gonna tell me what it is you were hiding? I’m coming up with all sorts of horrible scenarios here.” Dean tried for humour, wanting to see Castiel smile, and he figured maybe the fact that he looked slightly less pained was a step in the right direction.

“It’s easier if I show you.” Castiel got to his feet and stepped back into the centre of the clearing, the sun highlighting the shadows under his eyes even more. He looked around and then lifted his hand, muttering something under his breath that Dean couldn’t understand. Just when Dean was about to ask what the hell he was doing, leaves and brush from the forest floor started to swirl, rising higher and higher until Castiel was in the middle of a tornado, his face calmer and smoother than Dean imagined it had been in awhile. He lowered his hand slowly and the leaves followed, fluttering to the ground and leaving Castiel standing in a pile, his head dropping like he was expecting punishment.

“That’s amazing, how did you do that?” Dean jumped to his feet, walking a circle around Castiel like it had been a trick.

“I know it’s a unsatisfying answer, but...magic.” Castiel straightened a little, and there it was, a little smile curving up his lips.

Dean was grinning like a child, and he ran over to where Cenweard was sleeping, nudging him with his boot. “Cenweard, wake up! Our new friend here is a damn wizard!”

Cenweard opened his eyes sleepily, and cocked his head in a gesture Dean had figured out was kind of like a smirk. _I told you to help, didn’t I?_

“You knew. You bastard.” Dean was still grinning, looking from Cenweard to Castiel and back.

_Creatures of magic always know one another. I think we’ve been looking for him for a long time. Can’t you feel it?_

Dean looked back at Castiel, bathed in sunlight and looking awkward and out of place and more than a little scared, but maybe there was something else there that Dean couldn’t quite get a hold of yet. He shrugged. “No idea. Feelings aren’t really my strong suit.”

_Luckily, they are one of mine. He’s going to be good for us, Dean. For you. You’ll see._

“Well, my dragon here tells me that you’re meant to be with us, so. What do you say, Cas, want to join the team?” Dean smiled and walked back to Castiel, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“You want me to join you?” Castiel looked up at Dean, that slight smile back on his lips.

“Sure. I need to know what else you can do with that mumbo jumbo you were speaking, that could probably come in handy.” Dean turned to Cenweard and grinned. “Trouble kind of has a way of finding us.”

“Then I will join you. It could be...fun.” Castiel paused, and looked thoughtful for a moment. “And no one’s ever called me Cas before. I think I like it.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ shoulder, the look of thanks so bare in Cas’ eyes that Dean’s heart thumped a little harder.

_Do you feel it now, Dean? I do love it when you tell me I’m right._

Dean turned and narrowed his eyes at Cenweard, who was curled up and obviously pretending to be sleeping, and if a dragon’s lips curved be curved in a smile, his were.

“Alright, well. That’s settled.” Dean cleared his throat, and turned back to Cas. “How about we go for a walk and find a stream, fill the water skins and maybe get you cleaned up.”

Cas nodded, and after Dean packed up a bag, they headed off into the woods. They walked mostly in silence, but it was nice having company for the first time in long enough that Dean couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d done it. He grumbled a little under his breath, but there was no malice in it. Cenweard really was always right.

***

They travelled together easily, Cas slotting in to their little group like he’d always been there. He was better at cooking than Dean was too, and he could manage to put together something that was actually kind of delicious from the stuff they could gather in the woods, berries and roots that Dean would never even have bothered to pick. He was even getting better at hunting, moving silently through the woods alongside Dean, his sharp eyes picking out fat birds high in the trees or the twitch of a squirrel under a bush, pointing so Dean could loose an arrow and take it down with one shot. Dean found himself spending less and less time in the villages they travelled through, even passing them by entirely sometimes. Sure, the food was good and his purse could never be too full, but he just didn’t find himself wanting for much that couldn’t be found right where he was.

If he were to look back on it, that comfort and ease probably let Dean relax a little, maybe a little too much.They’d been travelling together, just the three of them, for a few months, moving through the forest and spending a few nights here and there. When they were far enough from any villages and the sky was getting dark, Dean and Cas would lie on their backs in a clearing or an open field and watch Cenweard fly above them, swooping and soaring, his hide glinting even in the moonlight. If maybe Dean let his arm move close to Cas’, the backs of their fingers brushing together, neither of them mentioned it, but Cas never moved his hand away either so Dean just enjoyed the warmth of Cas next to him in the cool night.

It was after a night like this, a perfect, relaxing night and a good meal that it happened. Dean and Cas were sleeping, curled up on a soft bed of leaves, the fire dying down to ash when Dean suddenly shot straight up, his heart pounding.

 _Dean!_ Cenweard’s voice filled his head, panicked and scared and Dean broke out in a cold sweat.

“Cas, Cas get up. Something’s got Cenweard.” Dean frantically shook Cas with one hand and dug through his bag for his dagger with the other, barely taking the time to lace up his boots before taking off through the woods.

“Dean, wait, what’s happening?” Cas stumbled behind him, shrugging into his coat and trying to catch up, his eyes darting around the pitch dark woods.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. Someone’s got him, how the hell could that happen.” Dean cursed himself for not hearing something sooner, for thinking that they were safe to let Cenweard sleep in a cave less than a hundred yards away.

As they got closer to the cave, Dean could see the lights of torches, and at least four men surrounding Cenweard. They must have snuck up on him, and Dean could see the firelight glinting off heavy chains wrapped tight enough about Cenweard that he couldn’t get his wings out. They’d even wrapped one around his snout, holding in his fire, but Dean was pleased to see that more than one of the men had singed shirt sleeves or bloodied legs. At least Cenweard had gotten in a few swipes. Dean flexed his fingers around the handle of his dagger and moved to step forward, but Cas grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Dean, wait. There are twice as many of them as there are of us, we can’t just go charging in there.” There was a calmness to Cas’ voice, but it was betrayed by the worry etched around his eyes and Dean had to look away.

“But we have to save him, Cas. This isn’t the first time...they’re worth a lot of money even if people are terrified of them. Killing one and selling it for parts is two birds, one stone.” Dean’s mouth went dry and his stomach turned at the thought of Cenweard’s hide being turned into armour, his blood sold on the black market for use in potions and medicines. 

Cas loosened his grip a little on Dean’s arm, and looked back to the scene just on the other side of the trees. “We will, but you can’t take on that many men with just a dagger. I can help. Give me a few minutes to get around to the other side of the clearing and then go.”

Dean hesitated, but then nodded. He’d seen what Cas could do a lot over the last few months, and he had suspicions he could do even more than he’d shown. He trusted him, not only with his life, but with Cenweard’s, and he waited anxiously until he could see the shadows of Cas appearing between the trees across from. Dean quickly surveyed the scene in front of him, trying to figure out who the ringleader was, but when a large man crouched down next to Cenweard and dug the point of his knife into Cenweard’s flesh, Dean charged.

He could feel Cenweard’s pain and fear and he used it as fuel, reaching the man before anyone noticed him or had time to react. He plunged his knife into the back of the man near Cenweard, bellowing as he pulled it out and the man slumped to the ground, his knife falling from his hand. Dean bent quickly to grab it, turning back to face the men quickly advancing on him.

“Oh, what do we have here? This your dragon, boy?” The man at the front was big, tall and broad with a gnarled scar running down one cheek to twist his lip. His skin was stained dark with dirt and blood, and his eyes flashed angry and bright as he came at Dean, his bare hands looking near as dangerous as the knife clenched in his right.

“Cas! Now’s the time for your brilliant plan!” Dean shouted gruffly, ducking just in time to avoid the thrusting knife of his attacker, sticking a foot out to trip one of the other men who made a satisfying thump when he hit the ground. In the darkness of the woods, Dean could hear Cas speaking, the sounds of a language that was now familiar to Dean’s ears if not to his tongue, and then there was a bright flash and a loud cracking sound. Dean looked up to see a tree crashing to the ground, falling too fast for the man standing under it to move out of its path. He screamed as the tree fell on him, pinning his legs to the ground, and he struggled madly to get away.

Dean watched a little in awe as Cas walked out from the trees, his face set firmly, his shoulders back in the most confident posture Dean had ever seen on him. He walked over to the man trapped under the tree who was now fearfully silent and held out his arm, pointing his palm at the man and speaking that language again. A burst of light came from his hand and Dean could feel the pulse of power even from across the clearing. The man trapped under the tree slumped and fell still, the kind of stillness that only comes in death. 

_Dean, behind you!_ Cenweard’s voice was weak but urgent in Dean’s head, and Dean spun on his heel just in time to block the slashing knife of another one of the thugs. The blade of the knife glanced across Dean’s forearm and he winced, swinging his other arm around to plunge his knife into the man’s side, feeling the blade skitter over the man’s ribs. Blood gushed from the wound but the man didn’t go down, fighting hard, his fist connecting with Dean’s gut, knocking the wind from him. Wheezing, Dean slashed out with his left hand, the knife he’d stolen from the first man he’d killed cutting deep into his attacker’s bicep, slowing him down just enough to allow Dean to get in close. His knife was sharp, and it sliced easily through the soft flesh of the man’s throat, his blood spilling hot down the thug’s chest, spattering over Dean’s hand.

Dean heard a scream and spun around, just in time to see another man hit the ground in front of Cas, his body crumpling like all his bones had dissolved. The light from Cas’ palm was just fading, and Dean ran to him, looking him over quickly to make sure he was okay. There was a gash on his palm, not terribly deep, and the shadow of a bruise starting to form on his cheek, but overall, they’re made it out pretty much unscathed. Without even thinking, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him tight, pressing his face to Cas’ neck until Cas lifted his own arms and wrapped them around Dean.

“Oh God, Cas, thank you, I’m sorry, fuck, you’re okay, he’s okay,” Dean babbled, his heart still pumping adrenaline through his body. Cas rubbed soothing circles onto his back for a few seconds as they both calmed, breaking apart and turning to where Cenweard was still trapped under the chains.

“Jesus...” Dean muttered while he started pulling the chains away, sweeping his hands and eyes over Cenweard’s body to make sure he wasn’t injured too badly. “Are you okay?”

 _I am fine, Dean. They snuck up on me while I was sleeping, and by the time I woke, the chains were already wrapped around my wings. I managed to set them on fire just a bit before they managed to chain my snout, however._ Cenweard sounded smug, even through his obvious tiredness. _They cut me a little, trying to get my blood but their knives couldn’t do much damage._

The sun was finally beginning to come up, and Dean could see the spots on Cenweard’s back where the knives had pierced, his blood brilliant red against his blue-black scales. Dean swore under his breath and blamed himself, a hot lump rising in his throat along with the urge to have someone punch him squarely in the face. 

“I’m so sorry, Cenweard, I should’ve been here, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Dean felt tears pricking at his eyes as he pulled off his shirt, using it to try and wipe the blood from Cenweard’s scales, succeeding in doing little more than smearing it around.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice was gentle, and his hand on Dean’s shoulder even more so. “Why don’t we go back to the camp and get some clean water and cloths, we can clean him up. And ourselves too.”

“You go. I’m not leaving him again.” Dean didn’t even turn to look at Cas, just kept stroking his fingers over Cenweard’s scales, his other hand clenching into an angry fist whenever his fingers found another wound. He heard Cas leave, listened to his movements for as long as he could hear them, his head falling when he was alone with Cenweard. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cenweard’s voice filled his head before he could even take a breath. 

_Don’t. It isn’t your fault, Dean. They said they’d been following us for weeks, probably since we left that last town. There was nothing you could’ve done._ Cenweard leaned into Dean’s touch and then stood, spreading his wings out and stretching his cramped limbs.

“I could’ve been here, I could’ve stopped them before they got to you.” Dean’s voice was firm, but he was trying to convince himself of that fact as much as he was Cenweard.

 _There were four of them, if they’d ambushed both of us, there’s no guarantee you’d have been able to handle them all._ Cenweard paused, giving Dean a heavy look. _And Cas was a great help. Without him, that fight might have gone very differently._

Dean was quiet, because he knew Cenweard was telling the truth. Without Cas, Dean would be dead right now, and Cenweard would be...well, Dean didn’t want to think too hard about that. “Goddammit, Cenweard. How come after all these years I still haven’t picked up on any of your smarts?”

 _Because then you wouldn’t need me anymore, and where would I be then?_ Cenweard’s voice was full of fondness, and he bent to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. It didn’t really fit there anymore, but neither of them mentioned it as Dean lifted his hands and held Cenweard’s neck, just feeling the heat of his blood pumping beneath his hide, closing his eyes and finally letting a few tears slip loose from his eyes.

They stood like that for some time, until Cas’ voice, gruff and soft carried over to them. “Dean? I brought water, and some food.”

Dean sniffed and coughed, wiping his hand roughly over his face to brush away the tears. “Yeah, thanks, come on over Cas.” He smiled at Cas, and it might have been a little weak around the edges, but it was real and it felt good. Together, they cleaned up Cenweard’s wounds, and then each others, Dean fighting back the urge to apologize the whole time he was bandaging the wound on Cas’ hand. 

When they were as clean as they were going to get from a waterskin and a cloth, Cas gave one of his little smiles, and reached for his bag. “Ready for breakfast?” Cas reached into the bag and pulled out a huge, freshly killed pheasant, and Cenweard nearly purred at the sight of it. “Dean told me it was your favourite, and I saw it when I was going back to the camp for water. I hope you don’t mind I borrowed you bow and arrows, Dean.”

Cenweard was already digging in, as eager as Dean had ever seen him for a meal, and Dean smiled wide, turning to Cas. “I didn’t know you could shoot.”

“I didn’t either. But I’ve watched you often enough, I thought I could try.” Cas shrugged and smiled, reaching back into the bag and pulling out leftovers from the night before for him and Dean. “Besides, he deserved it and when he’s happy, so are you. I like seeing you happy.”

Cas said it like it was just a fact, easy and inarguable, and Dean just looked at him, Cas’ face smooth and relaxed despite the blossoming bruise marring his cheekbone. Dean’s fingers itched to reach out and touch, but instead he reached out and grabbed a leg of whatever bird they’d roasted for dinner the night before, taking a bite and chewing slowly, quietly. 

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said after swallowing. “Means a lot. To both of us.” Cas cocked his head a little and nodded, both of them knowing Dean was thanking him for far more than the food. “After we eat, we need to get a move on, find somewhere new.” Unbidden, Dean imagined finding some far off corner of the woods where no one ever went and building a cottage, not a big one, but with lots of open space around it for Cenweard to fly and where no one would ever hurt him or Cas ever again. He shook it off, and watched as Cas tossed ripe berries into the air, laughing as Cenweard caught them with his tongue. Dean noticed that Cas’ laugh didn’t sound odd or uncomfortable anymore, it sounded warm and familiar and Dean wanted to hear it all the time. 

_You like seeing him happy too._ Cenweard’s voice was matter of fact in Dean’s head, and Dean narrowed his eyes as the dragon didn’t even stop catching berries to speak to him. _Tell him, or I will._

Dean rolled his eyes, but seriously, Cenweard didn’t play around and Dean had no desire to hear just how much Cenweard might embellish. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas tossed one more berry and then turned, the edges of his mouth still curved up just a little. “Yes?”

“I like seeing you like this. Happy.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so content as I have since you found me in the woods, Dean.” Again, Cas spoke so plainly that Dean was taken aback at how he could just lay it all out there when Dean needed prodding from a _dragon_ to speak his feelings.

Dean cleared his throat, not quite sure exactly how to respond to that. “Well, good. I’m glad. Here, you need to eat something.” He pushed the rest of the bird over to Cas, watching him as he ate.

 _There, was that so hard?_ Dean could hear the laughter in Cenweard’s tone, but he couldn’t even rustle up the energy to turn and glare at him. Watching Cas eagerly pick the bird clean was a far better use of his time, and Dean decided he didn’t care what that meant.

***

The day was spent on the move, Dean and Cas walking deep into the woods, the sun nearly completely blocked by the trees at some points. Cenweard flew ahead, scouting out the area, and every once in awhile Dean looked up just in time to see Cenweard swoop back over them, relaxing every time it happened. Cas chatted almost constantly, the most Dean could remember him talking in all the months he’d known him, but about nothing in particular. He told Dean about his family and his childhood, his huge brood of brothers and sisters that Dean could barely keep track of and frankly, sounded like they had so much drama amongst them that Cas was lucky to be out of that.

He looked to Dean expectantly every now and then, tilting his head until Dean provided his own story, talking about his little brother, which he was pretty sure was never going to get any easier. It felt good too though, comfortable, and he loved the way Cas laughed when Dean talked about the pranks he and Sam used to pull on their dad, and the soft way Cas looked at him when Dean talked about his mom and her cooking and how much he still missed it. They both fell silent eventually, the well of stories running dry for now and they walked on in silence, only stopping when the sun started to drop in the sky and they were both nearing exhaustion.

They found Cenweard perched on top of a little hill, soaking up the last of the days sun, and he gestured for them to follow him. He lead them to what was pretty much the perfect spot, a little valley just on the other side of that hill with walls that were high enough to unclench the knots in Dean’s gut. He could hear the soft sound of water nearby, and the trees overhanging the valley left the ground beneath his feet covered in leaves and soft. He looked around and grinned, dropping his bag on the ground. “Home sweet home, eh?”

Cas set his bag down gently, kicking his foot through the leaves, his lips quirking up just a little. “It’s lovely. Thank you for finding it Cenweard.”

Cenweard dipped his head in answer at Cas, then looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. _Dean, I’m going to go do some hunting. Why don’t you start a fire and get a spot ready for bed? You could both use some rest._

Dean looked at Cenweard, cocking his head a little. He thought carefully how to phrase his next question, since Cas would only be hearing his side of it. “I’m sorry, what?”

 _You heard me, Dean._ Cenweard looked from Dean to Cas and back again. _I will be gone for several hours. Have a good night, my friend!_

“Cenweard!” Dean shouted after the dragon as he took off into the sky, glad the darkness would hide the flush he was sure was spreading over his cheeks.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” There was concern in Cas’ voice, but when Dean turned to him there was a little smile on his face, and Dean fought the urge to groan. That dragon would be the end of him.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine Cas. You want to set up a place to sleep and I’ll get a fire going?” Dean busied himself with clearing a spot and gathering branches, and soon he had a strong fire burning, the heat warming his hands and soothing his tired muscles. He looked over to where Cas had smoothed out some leaves and laid down a woolen blanket. Dean couldn’t remember where they’d picked up that blanket actually, but he was glad they had. It was almost like actually having a bed.

“Dean, come sit. You look exhausted.” Cas settled down onto the blanket himself, and patted the spot next to him. He tugged off his boots, sighing as the heat of the fire warmed his toes, and Dean hurried over to do the same. It felt good to sit after such a long day, and he really did feel safe and relaxed, despite the intense start to their day. 

They sat in silence for awhile, just watching the fire, and then Dean licked his lips, turning to face Cas. “Cas..”

Before he was even sure what he was going to say next, one of Cas’ hands was sliding up the back of his neck and pulling him in, and then his lips were on Dean’s, and Dean forgot he even knew how to speak in the first place. If he’d expected Cas to be tentative, he would’ve been wrong, and he couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his mouth when Cas swiped his tongue over Dean’s lips, digging his fingers into the soft skin at the nape of his neck. Dean parted his lips and slid his tongue alongside Cas’, finally reaching out to get his hands on Cas, smoothing them down his back, over his arms, and into his soft hair.

Cas’ hands roamed over Dean’s body, pushing and pulling at his clothes, trying to find skin. Dean let Cas push his jacket down his arms, lifting them so Cas could tug his shirt over his head, their lips parting for the shortest possible amount of time to let that happen. Cas made a hungry sound in the back of his throat and traced his fingers around the edges of Dean’s birth mark, the shape flushing impossibly redder as Dean’s heart raced with desire. A groan fell from Dean’s lips when Cas bent his head to let his tongue follow the path his fingers had just traced. He let his teeth scrape down the side of Dean’s neck, digging them in at the soft spot just over Dean’s pulse, and Dean arched into the touch, hissing softly.

“Dean...” Cas’ voice was soft and muffled against Dean’s skin, and Dean clenched his fingers wildly into Cas’ hair. “I’ve wanted to do this since you saved me in the woods.”

The sound that Dean let out then might have been close to a whimper, but he couldn’t help it when Cas was talking like that, all calm and honest, his breath hot over Dean’s nipple before he closed his lips around the sensitive flesh. 

“Fuck, me too, Cas, me too.” Dean tugged Cas up so he could kiss him again, hot and hungry as he pulled at Cas’ clothes, sighing with relief when he could finally run his hands over Cas’ bare chest. He laid down on the blanket, pulling Cas with him, letting his legs fall apart so Cas could settle in between them. They both gasped at the contact, their cocks hard beneath their breeches, separated by entirely too much fabric. Cas rocked against him, and Dean hooked one leg around Cas’ hips to pull him impossibly closer, the pressure and friction just this side of pain. The little sounds escaping Cas’ mouth were sinful, soft and rough all at once, and Dean drank them in, pressing his hips up to wring out even more of them. 

Cas pulled around from Dean’s mouth with a sound like a sob, his cheeks flushed deeply, his eyes wild in the light of the fire. He looked like he wanted to eat Dean whole, and Dean would have let him, no questions asked. Instead, Cas dragged his hands down Dean’s body, tracing over the lines of his muscled chest until they reached the waist of his breeches. The time for slowness and teasing had apparently passed, and Cas’ nimble fingers made quick work of the laces, tugging Dean’s breeches down until they could be tossed aside with the rest of their clothing. He started in on his own breeches, and for a second Dean wished it was his own fingers doing the work, but watching Cas’ obvious need as he shoved down his breeches, revealing the slim lines of his hips and the full hardness of his cock, well, that wasn’t exactly bad either.

“Get back here.” Dean reached out and pulled Cas back to him, throwing his head back and exhaling sharply when Cas’ cock slid alongside his own. He reached down and wrapped a calloused hand around both of them, squeezing and pulling just enough to make Cas’ breath catch in his throat. Cas dropped his own hand to join Dean’s, both of them thrusting into their fists, slick fluid starting to pool at the tips of their cocks and ease the slide. Dean could feel his balls starting to clench already, heat swirling in his gut and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to race towards the end or do anything he could to stop it. Turns out, the decision wasn’t only his to make, and Cas stilled his hand, grabbing Dean’s wrist to stop his too.

“Dean.” Cas sounded wrecked, and Dean felt his cock twitch just at the sound of that voice made even gruffer. Cas’ hand fell away from their cocks and moved lower, gently cupping Dean’s balls before dipping behind them, brushing a finger over Dean’s hole. “Can I? I want to be inside you.”

Dean groaned, both from the gentle earnestness of the request and the feeling of Cas’ finger pressing against him. Suddenly, there was nothing more that he wanted in the entire world than to have Cas inside him, and he nodded, his tongue darting out to moisten his cry lips. “Fuck yes, that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard, Cas.” He tilted his hips up to push back against Cas’ finger, both of them nearly whimpering when the tip just barely slipped into Dean’s body. Yeah, this was definitely what Dean wanted.

Cas disappeared for just a moment, and even with the heat of the fire, Dean felt cold. He watched as Cas dug through their bags, first Dean’s and then his own, nearly crowing with triumph when he found what he was looking for. Dean recognized it as a little bottle of oil they’d bought on one of their trips into the villages, something they’d used for soothing sunburnt skin. He was exceedingly grateful that Cas had thought to purchase it moments later when Cas’ fingers were slick with it, two of them sliding deeply into Dean’s ass. Dean was breathless at the feeling, so full, but at the same time just a promise of what was to come. Cas moved them slowly, pressing them deep into Dean and pulling them nearly all the way before sliding them back in, and it wasn’t long before Dean was rocking down into the motion, planting his feet and trying to pull Cas’ fingers impossibly further into him.

He gasped when Cas pushed in a third finger, twisting them and bending them, picking up the pace until Dean was panting, pushing back at Cas’ arm and trying to drag in enough breath to speak. “Cas, Cas, you’ve gotta stop. I don’t want to come until you’re in me. Come on, get up here.”

Cas made a noise almost like a hiccup, pressing his fingers deep into Dean once more before pulling them out. Dean almost whimpered at the loss, but his mouth went dry as he watched Cas slick up his cock with the oil, going slow and smirking once he realized Dean was watching. Cas’ cock was kind of fucking beautiful, if you asked Dean, though he’d admit to not being the most unbiased audience. It was long and kind of slender, just like Cas, and it looked perfect, and if Dean didn’t get it inside of him, he was sure he’d die.

Dean let his legs fall as wide open as they could, and Cas settled between them, and for a second he just looked. The weight of his gaze was almost uncomfortable, but then he looked at Dean’s face and their eyes caught, and all Dean saw there was wonder and he was sure he didn’t deserve this, but he was determined to make sure Cas always looked at him that way. Cas lined up with Dean’s hole and pushed in slowly, their eyes locked to one anothers until Cas was buried deep in Dean and they both let out the shaky breaths they’d been holding.

“Oh God, Dean,” Cas gasped, pulling his hips back to thrust in again, and again, building up a deep, slow rhythm that made Dean’s toes curl and his stomach do flips. He wrapped his legs around Cas’ hips and gasped, the change in angle pulling him even deeper, and trapping Dean’s cock between their bellies. Every thrust had it rubbing over sweat and pre-come slicked skin, and Dean’s head was spinning from all of it, just this side of too much.

They moved together easily, like they’d done it a hundred time before, and Dean couldn’t wait to find out what it would be like when they _had_ done it a hundred times. He scraped his nails down Cas’ back, doing it again when Cas tossed his head back and moaned the first time. He fisted a hand in Cas’ hair and pulled him down, kissing him hungrily while Cas thrust into him in sharp, shallow jabs. It turned out that felt just a good as deep and slow, and Dean moaned into Cas’ mouth, his cock twitching between them, every inch of his skin on fire.

“Cas, faster, faster,” Dean nearly groaned out, gripping his fingers into Cas’ hip and urging him on.

Cas kissed Dean once more, all tongue and lips and need, and then pulled back, fucking into Dean hard and fast and perfect. His rhythm faltered, but that only made it better, and Dean rocked up into it, tossing his head back and letting his legs fall open and just taking it. This time when his balls started to tighten and his stomach clenched, he didn’t stop it and he came harder than he knew was possible, Cas’ cock pushing deep and hard inside of him, his cock untouched between their bellies. His come was slick and hot and the slide of the bellies afterwards was obscene. Even more obscene was the way Cas paused just long enough to swipe a finger through the mess, his eyes fluttering shut as he licked it clean, like it was some kind of delicacy. Dean groaned at the sight, pretty much the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and his spent cock made a valiant effort at giving an approving little twitch. Cas swallowed and wrapped spit-and-come slick fingers around Dean’s hip and started fucking him again, deep and fast, nearly punishing, and he came with a shout, his cock pulsing deep in Dean’s ass where Dean could feel the heat and slickness. He collapsed against Dean’s chest and rolled to the side, looking up at Dean with heavy lidded eyes and a lazy, content smile.

Dean couldn’t help but return the smile, reaching out to brush back a sweaty piece of hair that had fallen across Cas’ forehead. “You’re kind of filthy, you know that? Where’d you learn all that?”

Cas shrugged, slipping his hand between Dean’s legs and circling around his slick hole, feeling the way it dripped out, pushing it back inside. Dean gasped, calling Cas a bastard under his breath, and Cas laughed. “I don’t think I learned it anywhere. You bring it out in me.” He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean again, and Dean thought he might just pass out.

“You’re going to kill me.” He grabbed Cas’ wrist and brought Cas’ hand to his mouth, licking the last of Cas’ come from his fingers, sucking until the digits were spit-slick and tasted of nothing but Cas. He grinned at the way Cas’ lips were parted, full and pouty and red. “And that wasn’t a complaint.”

They lay together until the fire started to burn down, and then Cas dragged over their jackets and pulled another wool blanket from what Dean was started to assume was a magical bottomless bag. He arranged the blanket and all the jackets over top of them and curled up against Dean’s side. Dean traced patterns over Cas’ back as his breathing slowed and evened, and he let the sound of it pull him under too,sleeping easy and warm with Cas’ arm and leg wrapped around him.

Dean woke first, the early morning light starting to peek through the trees. He saw Cenweard curled up on the other side of the fire pit, but the dragon wasn’t asleep. In fact, he was watching them with the smuggest look Dean could ever imagine a dragon having, and when he noticed Dean was awake, he nodded at them.

 _Is it too soon to say I told you so?_ Cenweard cocked his head, and Dean could swear the bastard smirked at him. _Because I told you so. He really is perfect for you, Dean. It’s wonderful to see you so happy._

Dean wanted to snap back, say something smart like always, but he didn’t. “Whatever, so you were right. Did you at least kill something for breakfast while you were out?” Dean laughed as Cenweard rolled his eyes and picked a rabbit up in his mouth and tossed it, hitting Dean squarely in the chest.

Cas stirred next to him, looking up with sleep-bleary eyes and messy hair. “Dean? What’s happening?”

“Cenweard brought breakfast, look.” Dean held the rabbit up by its ears, and Cas woke up in a hurry, reaching for the rabbit with greedy hands.

“My favourite, I can make stew!” Cas reached for his breeches and hopped into them, quickly dressing and grabbing his bag. “I’m going to look for some roots and things, see you later.” He bent down and kissed Dean quickly on the lips, and headed off into the woods, nearly skipping with excitement.

Dean heard Cenweard huffing, the nearest thing he could do to laughing and tried to glare at him. It didn’t work, and Dean grinned as he threw a boot at Cenweard. “God, shut up, you were right, and I’m going to go down to the river and wash up. Okay?”

Cenweard huffed again, just a little, and tucked his wings in around himself and settled in to doze in the sun. Dean watched him for a second, the deep rise and fall of his chest as he slept, Dean’s own heart beating calmly and steadily. When he was a kid, he’d never have thought that he’d find happiness with a wizard his dragon basically set him up with, but then, his life hadn’t ever gone the way anyone had expected. The unexpected wasn’t always bad, especially when it came with crinkly blue eyes and an amazing rabbit stew.

 

Epilogue

 

Dean trudged through the forest, the bag on his back heavy with supplies. It was a long journey to the nearest village, taking nearly two days to get there and back. He was tired, and it was getting late, but he was close, and he’d rather spend tonight in bed than another night on the forest floor if he could help it. Just as the sun was dropping in the sky, Dean could see a little pillar of smoke billowing into the sky, and before he knew it, he was stepping into the little clearing they’d called home for more than a year.

Cas was out in the pen where the kept the chickens, crouching down to scatter grain for them to eat, and Dean smiled at the memory of how they got those chickens. Dean had gone into town for something or other, and there had been a small flock of chickens just roaming around, practically following him, and he’d hardly had to chase them at all to get them in a little crate he’d found. He’d presented them proudly to Cas, a gift to celebrate finally settling down and having a place to call their own, and Cas’ eyes brightened even as he scolded Dean. Cas had tried to explain to him how stealing was not romantic, but Dean had seen right through that, thanks to the smile spreading across Cas’ face as he bent to run his fingers over the chickens’ soft feathers. He’d helped Dean design the fanciest chicken coop that ever was, and if Dean ever wondered where Cas was, he could always be found with the chickens, talking softly to them and stroking their feathers. They shrieked and pecked every time Dean tried to touch them, but he just figured they knew he was thinking about how good they’d be roasted in the hearth. 

“Dean!” Cas saw him then, standing and brushing his palms off on his thighs. He hurried over and wrapped his arms around Dean, kissing him soundly on the lips. “I missed you.”

“I was only gone for two days.” Dean was grinning though, and he’d certainly missed Cas. As time went on, they seemed to need fewer and fewer things from the town, and the trips became much less frequent. 

Cas twined his fingers through Dean’s and pulled him towards the cottage, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Come on, I’ve got dinner ready. Cenweard found a flock of pheasants yesterday and managed to get one for himself and one for us. It’s just done roasting.” 

Dean groaned a little as the smell hit him, rich and savoury, and he was so glad Cas was such an amazing cook. Just before he stepped inside, he heard the familiar sound of wings beating above his head, and looked up to see Cenweard silhouetted against the setting sun, flying free and safe. Dean smiled at the sight, his heart swelling like it did every time he remembered how lucky he’d gotten.

He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Cas’ waist, pulling him in close and tight enough that Cas made a small sound of surprised in the brief moment before Dean’s lips were on his. He kissed him deep and slow, letting his fingers slid just under Cas’ shirt to trace patterns into the soft skin of his hips. When he pulled back, Cas was flushed, his lips reddened as they curled into a little smile.

“What was that for?”

Dean shrugged, glancing back to see Cenweard set down in the clearing with another bird in his mouth, nodding his hello at Dean. He turned back to Cas and rubbed his thumb across Cas’ full lower lip. “Nothing, I’m just glad to be home.”


End file.
